


We've Always Been

by basicallymonsters



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Light Angst, M/M, Mutual Pining, Oral Sex, Porn With Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-27
Updated: 2015-07-27
Packaged: 2018-04-11 11:53:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4434506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/basicallymonsters/pseuds/basicallymonsters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They kiss when they're drunk, and love each other the rest of the time, and fucking in their hallway is the closest they've come to admitting it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We've Always Been

Dan doesn't know when he became so needy.

He used to have so much control - over his future, over his opinions and even over his friends in a hazy sort of way, commanding attention and diverting conversations so precisely that no one noticed his domination.

He was good at drawing eyes to him but not so good at keeping them there, and he had come to accept when his fifth candidate for best friend pulled out of the race, distracted and wandering like they all did - that he just wasn't loveable. 

And there was never a reason, it was always arbitrary and as complete and unapologetic as his devastation was, explained on featherlight brush-offs and with pitying eyes.

But he never thought Phil would pull away from him.

When they met, it was with a shy newness and a complete certainty that Phil was different in every good way, and that he wouldn't leave him. 

He touched him so softly and spoke so highly and looked so pretty with his long fingers in his messy dyed hair. (they were pianist's fingers, and Dan told him so)

Abandonment wasn't in Phil's nature, not when the relationship worked. And Dan and Phil worked so completely it was like they were glued together, and going back to Wokingham was ripping their limbs apart (along with a couple layers of skin).

Phil was too sickly sweet to consider breaking Dan's heart, which is why it hurt so bad when he bent it and straightened it, those pianist fingers toying with his ventricles without ever meaning to.

Phil was oblivious. He was flirtatious and then he was offhand, wrapped around Dan's body like twine and whispering secrets into the column of his neck like it was confessional.

But then he introduced Dan as his "good friend", slapped him on the back when Dan was expecting soft hands and lips, retreated to his room when Dan was seconds away from leaning in.

They danced around each other, or Dan danced around him - for literal _years_ , dipping into the venn diagram between 'Dan' and 'Phil' for perfect nights at a time, always looping back to friends, friends, we're friends Dan, what do you mean what are we Dan, I love you Dan, you're my best _friend_.

It was starting to keep him up at night, annoyed tears stinging his eyes or sexual frustration humming through him, always fitful and hot and thinking of Phil on repeat.

But at least he'd found himself a best friend, he reminds himself between cocktails, half bitter and half honest, thinking of the way he'd poured his life into Phil's open arms, and the way he was privileged enough to get pieces of him in return. 

Phil watches him over the rim of his own glass, eyes heavy and probing and Dan thinks maybe. Maybe tonight he'll get another piece, maybe a booze-laced confession, maybe an opening to kiss him like they only did when their inhibitions weren't around. Maybe even his heart - the piece he's really playing for.

_____  

Turns out it's a kissing kind of night.

Dan finds himself pressed into the wall in their stairwell, Phil's weight completely focused along the front of him, grinding forwards and pressing sloppy kisses to his neck. 

Dan's a little too drunk to care about anything but the suction, the hard length of him, the stuttering breaths all over his body and the little loop of his name on Phil's lips, quiet and strangely sad like he's choking for him.

 He finds himself being forcibly turned around so his cheek his flush with the cool wall, and Phil is back on him in an instant, big and overwhelming, bucking into his ass, hands surprisingly steady on his waist. They slide forward under his shirt, wedged between his chest and the wall, clutching without real thought or purpose, and everything is packed so close together. 

They're humid and panting and Dan pushes him away because he's throbbing and they never finish what they start.

Phil's eyes always go wide somewhere around when Dan's shirt comes off, and he scrabbles off of his body, hands spasming like he can't believe what he was just doing with them.

But Phil pulls him back into the heat this time, Dan's name on his exhale again, and he's fumbling with his belt.

He seems to realize what he's doing because he stumbles back.

"Sorry, oh god, sorry Dan, if you don't want to, of course-" of course. He's always so polite, always checking up on him, always looking at him like the picture of a concerned friend.

"Fuck, you know I-" Dan starts, but his head is muddled and he hates that part of being drunk, hates being so inarticulate.

"I want to. I always want to, you're all I-"

"Is that a keep going?" Phil interrupts quietly, eyes on the floor and then sliding over Dan's crotch, and the lines of his chest, and finally up to his eyes. Dan frowns.

"Keep going Phil, and don't patronize me."

"I just never want to do something you don't want me too."

He could scream at him that he doesn't want him to pretend for him, doesn't want all their radio silence, doesn't want him to keep fucking other people because it makes Dan physically ill.

Instead he says, "I know Phil, god, I know you'd never. Please just kiss me."

And Phil does, reverently, with both hands on his jaw.

Their bodies slide back together like magnets and Phil's hands are immediately back on his chest, thumbing his nipples and then abruptly down, palming him over his jeans.

"This ok?" Phil asks. 

Dan nods, doesn't want to jinx it. "Yes. More."

"Yeah, Dan, shit." 

Phil rubs him a little more aggressively, ducking his head back to Dan's collarbone, laving over bruises he's already left there.

"I want to blow you" he says breathily, hand on his zipper.

Dan's breath hitches, and he resists the urge to force Phil to his knees immediately.

"Please, fuck." Please don't back out this time, please let this mean something.

Phil slides down eagerly, and Dan feels light headed, cool air rushing over his flushed skin now that Phil wasn't completely in his space.

Phil's unzipping his trousers and yanking them down his thighs and Dan threads one hand through his hair.

"Phil", he says, and he looks up at him, stopping immediately.

"Only if you want to" Dan whispers.

Phil's eyes go dark.

"I want to. I've wanted to since you were eighteen." He hooks his thumbs in Dan's boxers.

"I want to every time I hear you in your room, every time we kiss and we're- and we're not supposed to."

He yanks the cloth down and inhales sharply, hands ghosting over his thighs, the v of his hips, anything but his cock.

Dan shivers, and his lip wobbles, feeling inexplicably emotional and connected even though his pants are bunched around his ankle and the hall light is flickering.

"I fucking- I want to whenever you bite your lip, or wear leather, or flirt with someone else-"

Dan whimpers in the back of his throat when Phil touches him for the first time, gripping his shaft lightly and licking his lips.

"I want you" Phil finishes, and Dan pants.

"You're drunk."

"I want you" Phil says, more firmly, and jerks Dan a couple of times, pressing his other hand into his hipbone securely.

"Please."

Phil nods, and leans in, thumbing over the head of his cock before tracking the movement with his tongue.

Dan gasps and tries to thrust forward, weighted down by Phil's pressing palm.

Phil sucks the head into his mouth and tongues the slit, twisting his other hand over the rest of him.

"More, please, please" Dan says, head thrown back against the wall and hands scraping the walls for some sort of support. Phil sucks more of him down, and traces the underside of him with his tongue, flicking at the head again. 

Dan's hands both fly to Phil's hair, raking it out of his face by accident, holding his fringe like a leash.

Phil pulls off and the cold air hits like a stimulant in itself. He palms at Dan's balls with one hand and licks around the base, suctioning kisses along the length of him.

Dan's barely breathing above him, focusing entirely on not bucking into his face. He's still wrapping his head around the reality of having his best friend on his knees for him, moaning around him, pupils blown wide and watching Dan's every jerky movement.

Phil fucking takes his cock down his throat then, sliding down to the hilt and eyes only watering a little. One of his hands threads down to palm at his own dick, making a low noise in his throat that sets Dan's hips moving again.

Phil starts to lose rhythm then, sloppily bobbing his head, licking over the head over and over again, and the hand holding Dan's hips slides down behind his balls and presses into his perineum. He's making little noises, still reciting Dan's name whenever his mouth is free.

Dan feels close to sliding down the wall, and his hands tighten in Phil's hair, which he seems to enjoy, eyes closing and mouth and hands moving faster.

Dan feels heat tense in his stomach, and Phil's cock is out now, he's jerking over it and taking Dan deep and it's a bit too much after a two year drought.

He comes in his mouth without warning, choking on Phil's name, vision going blurry.

When his eyes focus, it's on Phil rubbing come from his lips, licking over them thoughtfully. Dan makes a high, keening noise when he sees that he's spilled over the carpet, and he looks fucked out and red in the face.

"You should've let me," he gestures to Phil's spent dick.

Phil shakes his head. "Wouldn't have been able to last. The noises you make, Dan." 

He tucks himself back into his jeans and rises to his feet. 

Dan feels suddenly awkward, fog lifting and drunkenness on the outskirts of his mind, trumped by conflicted feelings and halfhearted afterglow.

Phil leans in and kisses him slow, sucking at his lower lip until Dan's jaw goes slack, and licking into his mouth.

They kiss for maybe another minute, and then their foreheads are pressed together, tasting each others breath, and it feels too intimate to be real, too intimate to be him and Phil. He turns his head away.

"Phil, what are we doing."

"I'm kissing you."

Dan lets out a frustrated sigh and slips out from underneath him, ready to climb the stairs and into bed alone. Ready to repress like it's his job. (It kind of is)

Phil catches his wrist but doesn't say anything, holding him and struggling for words. Dan waits impatiently. He'd rather brush the taste of his own come from his mouth than listen to half formed reminders that they're friends, friends, friends.

"I wouldn't have-" Phil stops, licking his lips hastily. Dan wishes he wouldn't draw attention to his mouth.

"I wouldn't have done that if-if I wasn't into you in some way." 

Dan snorts. "In some way?"

"I mean… I-I" Phil stutters, and Dan pulls his hand free sadly.

"I just wish you knew what you wanted Phil, because I've known for bloody years." He makes like he's going to walk up the stairs and Phil grabs him again, hands warm on his shoulders and collar, where bruises and drying saliva are too fresh.

"Phil" he warns.

"No, hey, no, let me talk."

Dan yanks back and almost trips up the stairs.

"Let you talk?" he asks incredulously, "Let you talk - I. I've been trying to talk about this nearly every night for forever, Phil! You shut me down, you skirt the subject and you tell me how much my _friendship_ means to you."  

There are tears in his eyes and he hates it.

"Can you honestly tell me I'm your best friend when my dick was just in your mouth, are you serious, Phil?" He asks, and Phil looks down.

"But you are my best friend." 

Dan throws his hands in the air and turns to dart up to the landing, Phil's voice ringing in his ears.

"No, wait, Dan, wait c'mon." He runs after him and they come to face each other again in the lounge. 

Dan's eyes catch on Phil's unfastened belt buckle and his eyes sting. They wasted it. They wasted their first time on fast and drunk.

Phil's brow is furrowed and he has one too many buttons undone at his collar and Dan hates that he wants him again. Nothing has really been worked out of his system except maybe his own pride.

"Dan, you're my best friend, but you've got to know that you're more than- more than any other friend I've ever had. We're not the usual bros, are we? We've always been…" He trails off uncomfortably.

"I love you Dan. We sleep together. We kiss-"

"When we're messed up. We kiss when you can laugh about it later. You want me when no one else is there, then you fuck off."

"That's not true, jesus christ. I want you all the time-"

Dan's heart constricts but he rolls his eyes. "Since when."

"Since I met you! How fucking blind are you, I've literally wanted you since you were in a fuzzy hat on your shitty webcam! I only act on wanting you when I'm drunk, that's all. I let myself touch you, for a second, because I'm thinking about it all the time, I can just hide it better than you." He spits the last part and then looks suddenly remorseful, dropping his eyes from Dan's shocked ones.

"I… I fuck off because I don't want to take advantage of you. I don't want to mess up."

Dan looks thoughtful for a moment, and then takes a step forward.

"You messed up anyway" he says softly. Phil nods.

"I'm starting to get that."

"So. If you want me does that mean- do you want to be with me, or is it just…" he flicks at Phil's dangling belt buckle.

"What do you think?" Phil asks, voice flat.

"Spell it out for me Phil, ok?" 

"I want to be with you. I want to live with you until you literally kick me out, alright? I don't want to feel bad about touching you anymore, I don't want to hold back anymore."

Dan nods and swallows the lump in his throat.

"What changed?" Dan asks.

"You did. You… looked resigned, like. Like you were ready to give up on me. It scared me. I thought… you're too good to me Dan, I always thought you'd wait for me to get my shit together." He says, and reaches out to play with Dan's fingers.

"I wasn't giving up, Phil, I've obviously bloody tried but it's sort of hard to get over someone who lives with you, and keeps kissing you out of the blue."

Phil flushes and squeezes his hand tighter.

"I don't express myself well."

Dan's soft smile turns a bit breathless.

"You do when you're on your knees." 

Phil's blush tints darker but he steps even closer to Dan

"You keep bringing that out in me. It's a hazard."

Dan nods absentmindedly, but his eyes are on Phil's lips, mind catching up with everything Phil's said.

"Does this mean we're doing this?" he asks a little incredulously. "Sober?"

"If you want. I know I've been an idiot, I don't… really have an excuse for that. But I want to try" he says.

Dan kisses him softly once, twice.

"I want to try too, you know? All I wanted us to do is try. I'm tired of boundaries that don't mean anything, and I'm tired of being a room away from you all the time."

Phil nods, and they're pressed back together again, mouths slanting together between breaths.

Dan breaks away. "God, I don't mean to be so needy" he says, half laughing.

Phil fans his hands out on Dan's neck, stroking the hinges of his jaw.

"Hey, I'm needy too. That's what a relationship is, probably. Being needy. For each other."

Dan presses his smile into Phil's wrists. "Relationship."

Phil bites his lip, gets it. 

"Yeah. More than friends."

Dan grins. 

"Finally."

 

**Author's Note:**

> I write a lot of the same thing whoops. Thank you so much for reading. <3


End file.
